


Ossa (The Tale Of The Lord Marshall's Consort)

by averzierlia



Category: Chronicles of Riddick, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averzierlia/pseuds/averzierlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fucking ion storms. Leonard doesn't get paid enough for this shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ossa (The Tale Of The Lord Marshall's Consort)

“My, my, my, what _do_ we have here,” says a cool voice accompanied by the colder prick of a knife at his throat. He follows the pressure of the knife up into a sitting position, and swallows thickly with fear.

The woman holding the knife is darkly beautiful, all chocolate skin and long hair. The sheets of the bed they're in are mounded around her hips and over her lap, and are pretty much the only thing she has on. Leonard's eyes flick away almost involuntarily, since she doesn't seem concerned about her state of undress.

“You are _not_ my husband,” she says it like she expects Leonard to disagree or something, which, hell no, he's been down that road before. Never again. Noticing him keeping his eyes off of her, she continues “and modest, how _adorable_ ,” she says, dropping the knife from his throat. Apparently she doesn't think he's a threat. True at the moment since he doesn't have any weapons (or hypos), but also a bit insulting.

“Some of us were raised with manners,” he says, and he probably shouldn't be arguing with someone who's holding him at knife point, but old habits die hard. He may have manners, but he doesn't have it in him to take things without dishing them right back out.

She laughs. “Not around here, you weren't,” which sounds...strange. She motions towards the door with the knife. “Go stand over there.”

He obeys, then watches her slide out of bed, gathering the sheet around herself and knotting it.

“Out the door.”

“Mind if I ask where we're going?” he questions dryly as they head down a dark corridor.

“No.”

After a few more corridors walked in silence he realizes that he should probably actually ask the question, since she's being deliberately obtuse.

“Where are we going?” he asks gamely.

“You'll see,” she tells him, “when we get there.”

He shuts up after that, since angering the crazy woman with an edged weapon is never a good idea.

When they arrive (or he assumes they've arrived, since they've stopped walking) after navigating who knew how many corridors, she knocks a few times on a surprisingly utilitarian door. It swings open under her last knock.

“It better be important,” the room's occupant says in a rumbling growl, the only indication that there is anything beyond in the blackness.

She gives him a shove that propels him several meters into the room, and he freezes as he fetches up against something. He reaches down a hand to steady himself only to feel whatever he's leaning on _move_.

He jerks his hand back and flinches away, only to what whatever-it-is follow him, pressing up against his legs. There is a dark chuckle from the surrounding blackness, and then a flare of light.

The first thing Leonard notices about the man is his eyes. Silver, with no distinction between pupil and iris, they shine in the light, refracting it back. Leonard hasn't seen anything like it in all his years as a doctor. The second thing he notices (he's almost ashamed to admit this) is the man with the strange, feral eyes is fucking gorgeous. The man smirks and tilts his head, watching him, then sniffs deliberately, nostrils flaring like he can scent something he likes.

“Where did you find him?”

“In my bed.”

His eyes narrow at that, and he moves forward, gliding smoothly toward them.

“Any idea how he got there?” he asks, circling around Leonard slowly, and Leonard has to fight the urge to turn with him and keep him in his sights.

“No,” the woman says from behind him, and when he turns, he sees that she's still at the door, just barely inside the room.

Riddick snorts, most likely in amusement, and turns his attention back to Leonard.

“Got a name?”

“Leonard McCoy, _USS Enterprise_ , service number 764-36-2227,” he says dryly, because fuck if he isn't sticking to standard procedure on an unknown space ship in the custody of unknown peoples.

“Long name,” is the only comment as the man continues to circle him.

“Well, my idiot best friend calls me 'Bones', if you're worried about remembering,” he offers with a smirk like an idiot, because he's never been able to resist snark. His damn mouth gets him into trouble every time.

“Bones,” and damn if his name doesn't roll off the man's tongue like something hot and sticky to drip down Leonard's spine. He shivers at the imagined sensation, goose bumps rising on his skin.

The man just smirks at him again.

“Well you're obviously not Vaako, even if the two of you do look alike,” he says in an abrupt change of topic, “and I don't recognize your ship name. I'm Riddick, and the one who brought you in is Dame Vaako.”

Leonard glances over at the woman, _Dame Vaako_ , and damn, he just can't keep his mouth under control, can he? and asks “Don't have a name of your own?”

“Ya, don't you have a name of your own?” Riddick joins him, smirking at the woman over Leonard's shoulder.

Dame Vaako just looks murderous.

Fucking _Sulu_ and fucking _ion storms_ and fucking _alternate universes_ and fucking _cults_. Of _course_ Leonard couldn't be dropped somewhere nice and quiet for a few days away from _space_ , oh no, he had to be switched with his _battle ax wielding counterpart_ on _another_ space ship. Fuck his _life_.

He doesn't realize he's said all this out loud until he sees the shocked look on Dame Vaako's face and hears the amused rumble that passes as Riddick's laughter. He slumps further into the pile of cushions and tries to ignore the purring cat-thing that's licking his calf.

“This isn't,” he says with a glare at both of them, “ _funny_.” Except he can see how it would be, if it was anyone else. Say, Jim. _Jim_ deserves to be dropped into a space ship filled with cultists, except then he'd probably come back with some rotting disease or something, and at least Leonard knows that he's not going to _sleep_ with anyone. Well, probably not. Well, it's not going to be on _purpose_. It's a bad idea to argue with undead cultists, anyway. Principle of the thing. The staying alive thing.

The cat-thing purrs louder and Leonard pets it absently.

“You can go,” Riddick tells Dame Vaako abruptly, and she hurriedly leaves. Someone in the room must scare her.

“They normally don't like people,” Riddick says into the silence, indicating the cat-thing.

“I'd never have guessed,” Leonard says dryly, continuing to pet it. It purrs even louder and starts to gnaw on his boot. “Stop that!” Leonard tells it with a smack. It stops and _looks_ at him, then pushes it's head imperiously into his hand, demanding more petting.

“Usually they just eat people,” Riddick observes.

Leonard's hand freezes, and the cat-thing bumps his hand with it's head again, and he resumes petting it.

Riddick smirks, then speaks “So I take it you have an idea of how you got here?” he asks, settling himself on the pile of cushions opposite Leonard.

“I'm from an alternate universe,” he starts, then sees Riddick looking at him blankly, so he sighs and _explains_. Explains the Federation, and Earth, and Starfleet, and science, and alternate universes. Riddick just sits there looking at him, petting a second cat-thing and taking it all in calmly.

“We did pass through an ion storm late last night,” Riddick muses, shifting absently. The second cat-thing is practically in his lap at this point, purring for all it's worth.

“Well, that explains why I ended up in bed with my alter ego's _wife_ ,” Leonard says, and then continues “She reminds me of Joce.”

“Joce?”

“Jocelyn, my ex-wife. Only, I'm pretty sure Dame Vaako is scarier. And prettier. I may not,” he realizes suddenly, “have had the best taste in women.”

“So what is it you do, in your universe?”

“I'm a doctor.”

“Don't seem like the type.”

“Ain't that the truth,” he pauses, then asks “Got anything to drink around here?” and oh, bless the stars, Riddick has _whiskey_.

He takes a slow drink and relaxes for the first time since he woke up next to Dame Vaako in Vaako's bed on this new ship, and was dragged off to the Lord Marshal’s quarters for introductions and the demands of an explanation.

“So, how many more of the cat-things do you have around?” Leonard asks to fill the silence that's descended in the room.

“Hellhounds,” and Riddick sounds amused.

“Sure as hell don't look like hounds to me,” Leonard tells him.

He spares a glance for the room, the walls draped in lavish coverings, all silvery sheen, the piles of cushions scattered randomly around the room, and the only other feature a large and opulent bed, which looks big enough to hold the entire bridge crew of the Enterprise, plus Scotty. And Leonard. And possibly Chapel and Kirk's yeoman.

The bed, orgy sized he decides, has three more hellhounds lounging on it, at ease and watching Leonard.

“So,” Riddick says, “any idea how you're supposed to get back to your own verse?”

Leonard shrugs. “Find another ion storm?” he hazards, because he really has no idea. Nothing like this has ever happened in this time line, and even in the old one, the differences between universes were never this drastic.

“I think that will take a while,” Riddick tells him, mouth quirked into an expression that is almost a smile. He has a feeling that Riddick doesn't smile often.

Leonard scowls anyway. “What the hell am I supposed to do till then?”

“I'm sure I can think of something.”

-

Leonard has to admit, watching the Lord Marshal hold court is kind of interesting. He thinks that it's a bit like watching the old Roman gladiators circle each other, looking for openings. So far, no one has mentioned his presence, just taken furtive looks in his direction out of the corners of their eyes.

That is, until the man introduced as General Tol decides that he sees an opening at the top that he'd like to fill.

“I see your First among Commanders isn't looking so well today, my Lord,” Tol says with a lingering look at Leonard.

“Commander Vaako is on a recon mission. Lord Ossa is advising me in his absence,” and that really isn't the response that Tol was expecting, if his expression is anything to go by.

Tol sketches a perfunctory bow in Leonard's direction, and says with a stormy expression “May I ask where Lord Ossa hails from, and if his people will be joining us?”

“No,” Riddick says coolly, effectively dismissing the General, which is probably why in the next moment Tol tries to kill Leonard.

A split second after Tol moves, before Leonard can even flinch back, the hellhound that had been stretched out on the floor behind him lunges forward and rips Tol open. By the time the dead man hits the floor, the hellhound is back at Leonard's side, licking the blood off it's muzzle and purring.

“Anyone else?” Riddick asks into the shocked silence, and everyone moved at once, bending back over the table where Riddick was showing them what they were going to be doing next.

Leonard is pretty sure he shouldn't find that damn smirk attractive.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, with Leonard (and the hellhound) following Riddick around as he deals with the day to day business of being the leader of a cultist army. Pretty tame, ignoring the fact that someone had tried to kill him during the first five minutes of his time among the general population of the Necromongers.

That aside, it was actually less stressful than a normal day aboard the _Enterprise_ .

-

The second day, Leonard kills someone. Well, almost killed someone. Thought very seriously about it, anyway. It was one of the deep sea explorers, or whatever they were, who started it. It had passed him in a corridor, and then started stalking him, clicking. In a very annoying way.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Leonard demands, rounding on the thing.

The thing just clicks louder.

Leonard makes it another corridor and a half before stopping and looking at the hellhound at his heels. “Kill?” he inquires, which the hellhound ignores. “God _dammit_ ,” Leonard says, trying unsuccessfully to ignoring the incessant clicking.

“If you don’t stop that damn clicking, I’m going to stop it for you,” Leonard tells it, which makes it click even louder.

“I order you to shut up!” Leonard snarls, and the thing does, much to his surprise.

He spends the next half hour wandering in blessed silence before Riddick finds him.

“You know,” he says, “most people just ignore them.”

“Most people must be deaf then,” Leonard mutters, continuing to wander up and down random corridors. He has absolutely no idea where he is or where he’s going, but at least there aren’t any idiots around to bother him.

Riddick hums and matches his pace, stalking through the corridors with feral grace, and wow, Leonard doesn’t need to be noticing these things. He really doesn’t. That’s totally Jim’s territory.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Riddick says abruptly, and the declaration sends shivers down Leonard’s spine and causes heat to pool low in his belly.

“Are you?” Leonard enquires, mostly out of curiosity in Riddick’s response.

“Yes,” Riddick says, crowding Leonard up against a wall, arms braced on either side of his head to trap him. And he fucking licks Leonard’s neck, which, fuck. If it isn’t one of the hottest things anyone has ever done to him he doesn’t know what is, and he’s hard in an instant.

They make it back to Riddick’s quarters, but only just, because Riddick can’t seem to keep his hands off of Leonard.

“I’m going to make you mine,” Riddick purrs in his ear, and Leonard arches up into the hard body above him.

“Yes,” he gasps out as Riddick pins his wrists above his head and mouths his throat. “Please.”

“Mine,” Riddick repeats, possessively, and when he bites Leonard’s neck his brain shuts completely off.

-

It’s another week before they find the ion storm again. Riddick tells him about it that night, after he’s worked Leonard over and he’s curled into him, exhausted. Leonard lifts his head and looks at him in surprise.

“I didn’t expect you to look for it,” he says. Then, thoughtfully “Or tell me, if you happened to find it.”

“We both know you aren’t really mine,” Riddick says. Leonard nods against his chest.

“Tomorrow is soon enough,” he pronounces, and straddles Riddick’s hips. Riddick’s hands wrap around his waist and Leonard hums when he leans down to kiss Riddick.

Tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Ossa is latin for 'bones'.


End file.
